


Warnings for the Rising Criminals of an Unnamed City

by ThreeBirds



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: And hinted child abuse, And like bones and skin and flesh, Drabble, For death/murder, Gen, Hopefully shivers will be sent down your spine, Horror, Mentioned psychological horror, Minor character death Because this isn't a story with real characters, Mutilation, Oh uh content warnings!, POV Second Person, Scary, Skeletons, Spooky, That's like the format, Urban Legends, Wtf am I supposed to tag this, You gotta squint a lil but it's there, ish, it's told like a story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeBirds/pseuds/ThreeBirds
Summary: There were six of them, at least in theory. In reality, the facts surrounding them would barely cover more than three individuals.•••••••The Umbrella Academy, described as the horrifying cryptids they would be from the perspective of the criminals they faught
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	Warnings for the Rising Criminals of an Unnamed City

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I am inspired by a post, specifically the wonderful tags:
> 
> https://yet-another-artblog.tumblr.com/post/634322813188259840

There were six of them, at least in theory. The facts surrounding them would barely cover more than three individuals.

They were always described as kids, always in a combination of superhero outfits and school uniforms. Some said they wore masks. All agreed there was nothing behind them.

The one least left a mystery had the sharp glitter of knives on his uniform, like scales on a sea serpent. They called him the Kraken. Invisible limbs would guide blades deep in flesh, sentient claws would glide through the air. He blasted through any set defenses, leaving your men a ripped net of skin and bones. The Kraken would _lunge_.

Henchmen were poetic, if given the chance. Spaceboy was that chance— at least for those who could still move their jaws. They told of a twinkle of emptiness between the shattered stars in his eyes. An empty smirk wearing the mask of confidence and a soulless skip wearing the suit of light-heartedness. Spaceboy never truly seemed _there_. Until, that is, he'd demonstrate his very-real presence with a gut wrenching crinkle of bones. He'd still smile. The only times where his robotic enthusiasm faltered were short, fearful glances at seemingly nothing— somewhere high past the city clutter.

The Séance was said to be the border between earth and the afterlife. Or at least the one bearing its maintenance. His deflated figure drifted the scenes— comforting victims, hostages, and empty spots in the air all alike. It's said that if The Séance chose to speak to you, you wouldn't stay in the land of the living for long. People told of the chill of his proximity, their standing hairs and crawling skin, his jumpy pupils and confident yet muffled tone, like a child whispering amongst a yelling crowd. The Séance had a path cleared anywhere he set his skull-sunken gaze.

It was near certain that The Boy had _existed_. a blue flash and a humourless chuckle served proof, just as they did a warning. His weapons were as diverse as they were distinct. If the wound seemed innocent— a butter knife with too much force, a stapling accident set too deep— it was nothing but that. The air rushing to fill the spacial gap of his loss sparked more fear than his appearance. If The Boy was leaving, it meant his task was completed. The blue flash was often followed by the thump of a lifeless corpse.

There was a female member, no more than a rumour to most. Her appearance was pieced together from moments before empty gaps in the memories of traitors and white-eyed human shells she left in her path. A curly head, a high-pitched inhale, then a blinding darkness. You wouldn't know The Rumour showed up until it was too late. They were all an omen of doom, but at least the others left evidence of their arrival. The Rumour left nothing but seeds of doubt and mistrust among your men.

They were all horrifying, of course— Their names all rose a chill if mentioned, But none were as twisted as The Horror. The nature of The Horror was unclear, but it was most certainly _not_ a boy. The shattered souls it left behind would forever stare at the spot where its sight was etched into their mind. If they could speak, it'd be the only thing they spoke of. The Horror was a presence much larger than the introverted child it surrounded, much stronger than he could handle for long.

There were six of them. Then there were five, Then there were four. And with their loss came an unexplained ominosity. The decrease in their numbers should have brought relief, but instead it seemed like the remaining members became more vicious, more deadly, more motivated. It went mostly unsaid— the denial let us continue celebrating; one less worry, one less threat. It went unspoken, for naming the omen would beg the question no one wanted answered.

If they weren't the monsters, who was?


End file.
